[ Wednesday, October 30, 2002 | 2:40 p.m. ] Time is really dragging this afternoon. I was just thinking that it's been such a sketchy week, and then it occurred to me that it's only Wednesday afternoon — the week's only half over. Ouch. I think I'm hitting that point, the point where the novelty of my new situation (i.e. work or school) is wearing off, and I start to get bored. Bored isn't even the right word for it, really. I'm out almost every night, and I don't have time for all the things I want to do; it's more like malaise. I can't believe I'm doing this now. I should be working. I never slack off at work, at least not deliberately. I started a little early this morning, though, so I think I'll quit at quarter to four. (Possibly. I don't want people to think I'm just slacking.) I haven't been sleeping much this week. I think that's at least part of my problem. I've averaged around 4.5 hours a night, which isn't quite enough for me anymore. Yesterday, one application of Visine got the red out, today two still wouldn't do it.

[ Sunday, October 6, 2002 | 03:57 a.m. ] I was just catching up on people's blogs, when I read Jacq's post from last Friday about how sick she was... I think I'm going to have to kill her. Her or Pange — whoever got me sick. I was out with my mom tonight when I noticed that my throat hurt. Not just a little; it hurt like a mother. If I get as sick as they apparently were... Of course, barely sleeping for a week probably didn't help strengthen my immune system... You've got to understand, I really, really don't want to be sick right now. Sure, no one really wants to be sick ever, but if I'd been sick last week, or if I were to be sick two weeks from now, I'd be okay with it. Not happy about it, of course, but okay with it. This week is bad. You see, tomorrow, or tonight, I guess, at eight p.m., my mother leaves for an entire week in Hungary. And while the cat's away, the mice will play, or however that expression goes. Basically, I was going to have my boy over almost every night. Being violently ill would kind of put a crimp in those plans. I wouldn't want to so much as touch him, for fear of making him sick, too. And if my dad, who unfortunately will still be in the country, finds out that I'm under the weather, he could be over here harassing me every night with chicken soup and the like. Ugh. Please let me wake up all better this morning. (That's not going to happen. My throat feels worse right now than ever.)